Woman King
by Gartabro
Summary: In which Darcy won't be quiet anymore and Loki still wants to be King (of Jotunheim). AU
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

A/N: Answer to a Tumblr prompt.

**Prompt:** Darcy, supervillain, seeks to take over Jotunheim and encounters the royal who is about to take the throne, Loki.

x-x

Sometimes, Darcy missed Earth. She missed the green and the sun of that planet. Hell, she even missed school. In the last two years, Darcy always tried to not think too much about her old world and put an end to those thoughts as soon as they appeared. She wasn't always successful, and those around her knew to leave her alone when the memories struck her.

The name for Earth here was Midgard, like in the old Norse myths that she had read about. She had liked to learn about myths when she was in high school, but she never thought that there was anything true about those stories.

She had been just out of high school when she ended in this cold world. Darcy had hoped for summer and days sunbathing in the beach, but instead she had ended in Jotunheim, a world made mostly from ice and where the sun barely showed.

"Mistress, the doors are about to yield," Agmundr, her general, said to her. He was taller than her, all Jotuns were, and blue with dark marking over his body. Unlike Darcy, his body was barely covered by any clothes, only a simple loincloth and light armor.

She still didn't know what had happened that day, she only knew that she was trapped here. Darcy had eventually learned that Jotuns didn't think much of humans; they saw them as little more than toys. Her race was one of the weaker in the Nine Worlds.

"Child, you should go back to the tent. You have been out for far too long," an old voice said. Darcy turned and saw the old female Jotun walking towards her. Darcy dismounted from the giant horse and sighed.

"I'm fine, you taught me well," she said to Langlíf. "And I think you should be the one inside her tent."

The old woman was the only one that had shown her kindness when she had arrived to this world. She was the one that had taked care of her wounds the day she had learned what this world thought of her race.

"This weather can't hurt me, child," she told her. "Now, come back or I'll take the pendant from you. Let's see if you can still give orders without it."

"Oh, don't worry. I've been learning your language," commented Darcy. "It keeps me busy."

Langlíf was also a witch. She had given her the enchanted pendant that allowed her to communicate in this world. The old woman had also offered to teach her magic once she was recovered, and Darcy had made sure to learn the spells that would give her an advantage over a Jotun, plus those that would offer her some protection from the cold winds of this world.

"That's not the only thing that has been keeping you busy."

Darcy knew that tone of voice.

"We have already talked about this."

Langlíf didn't approve of what she was doing, but she still refused to leave. If she couldn't stop her from taking over this world, she would said, at least she should make sure that she didn't get herself killed in the process.

In any case, most Jotuns wanted their current King gone. They blamed him from Jotunheim's current state. Langlíf had once told her that life had been easier before the last war against Asgard, that there used to be seasons. She said that summer wasn't as hot as the ones in Midgard, but that you could still notice the difference.

Darcy wasn't leading this army because she didn't like their King, though. She was leading this army because she refused to keep acting like she didn't exist; it hadn't brought her anything good last time. If she had to stay in this world for the rest of her life, she was going to make the best of it.

A hand landed on her shoulder. Darcy tensed slightly. She relaxed when she heard Agmundr's voice.

"The old witch is right," he said. "This battle is already won."

They were both against her, apparently. She repressed a smile.

"I don't want unnecessary kills," she said. With a bit of difficulty, she mounted again and offered a hand to Langlíf. Agmundr helped her to sit behind her. "I can't rule without subjects."

"Of course, Mistress," he said with a fist over his heart.

With the horse, they arrived quickly to their tent.

"You should have stayed here," she said once more to Langlíf while she tied the horse. "You're not that young anymore."

"And how can you know that? My race is a long lived one compared to yours," she answered.

"Agmundr thinks you're old," she parted the tent flap. "And everyone agrees with-"

She fell silent when she noticed the Jotun inside the tent. He was blue with markings and had red eyes, like all the others, but he had black hair. Darcy had never seen a Jotun with hair; their bodies didn't need the protection. He also was rather short for a Jotun, like a really tall human.

Darcy tightened her fist and felt it start to warm. She knew who this Jotun was.

"Now, Lady Darcy, I'm not here to fight," Prince Loki said. "I'm here to help."

He was the youngest son of Laufey, the current King. According to rumors, he was only half-jotun. Now that she saw him, she could see that she looked more human than anyone else in this world.

"And why would you help me overthrow your own father, Prince Loki?" she asked.

"Because those that follow you are not the only ones tired of him, little Midgardian," was his answer. He tried to touch her face, but he hissed when her hand moved his away and he felt the heat coming from it. "Ah, so the stories about your magic are true."

"You find it amusing?" she asked him when she noticed the tone of his voice. He let out a laugh and lifted his hand. It was in flames. "How-?"

"You're not the only one that bothered with learning those spells," he said. "And I've had more time to practice them."

"What do you want?"

"Help you."

"That's not the answer."

"True. I want power," he said. "I'll help you destroy my father, under the condition that I won't lose my current power once he falls."

"You want to live, then," said Langlíf.

"I don't need your help to live, witch," he told her. He looked at Darcy. "Compared to us, your life will have ended in a blink of an eye."

"Your point?" Darcy asked.

"I will help you, if I reign after you," he answered. "The war will end sooner if we work together."

And her life would also end sooner if he had his way.

"Deal," she said.

Langlíf had a few tricks under her sleeve, and she had made sure that Darcy learned them. She would end with Loki before he could put an end to her life.

x-x

Loki smiled to himself when the Midgardian turned around. She wasn't the first one to end in this world, but she was certainly the first one to attempt to take over it. It was pity that she would have to die when this was all over, she was an interesting one.

The woman ordered the old witch to prepare a tent for him to sleep tonight. The old woman left, but not without looking at him with suspicious eyes.

The remaining woman freed herself from the pelts that had been covering her body and left them over one of the mattress. Loki couldn't help tracing her body with his eyes. She was… curvy.

A pity, indeed.

He tapped his chin with a finger, thinking about his plans. Ah, well, he could rearrange them a bit. A King always needed a Queen, after all, and he wouldn't have to deal with her followers if he didn't kill her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

A/N: So... Apparently there's going to be a fic that I don't know how often I'll be able to update?

x-x

Days on Midgard were longer, Loki remembered on his third day in the castle that the mortal had conquered. Darcy had a tendency to sleep in the middle of the day and leave Langlíf and Agmundr in charge. He didn't know exactly how long, though.

The old witch and the general were great choices to keep tabs on things, he had to admit it. They did their job marvelously. They kept everything under control and running, plus making sure that no one approached the girl's bedroom. It made Loki wonder how much Darcy trusted her army.

Loki walked through the cold corridors of ice strengthened with spells and stone, and felt eyes following him. He knew what they were thinking, it was rather obvious. Some would rejoice at the idea of one of the princes joining them, while others would want nothing more but see his head in a pike. Agmundr was a great example of the later.

And so was the witch.

"I wonder," he had said to her the first day here. "What have I done to earn your hate?"

Even weighted down by the years, Langlíf could still look at him directly at the eyes. She must have been rather tall in her youth. Now, however, she was just a bag of bones, covered by a brown stripe of fabric across the chest and a long skirt of the same color.

"You know very well that it's not what you have done," she answered. "It's what you plan to do."

"I just want to help her. And, of course, I want the throne after she's no longer the King," he paused. "Or would she use the Queen title? What do you think, Langlíf?"

She ignored his question. "That you want the throne, I don't doubt. But I also don't doubt that you want an army, too, Laufeyson."

"And you Mistress knows this, old witch," he told her. "She's an intelligent girl."

"You're still Loki Liesmith," she said. She moved the staff closer to him, and Loki could feel her magic coursing form her body to the icy staff. "Kill her, and you will lament it."

Loki rested his closed fist against his heart. "I promise you, Langlíf, that I've no plans for killing her."

The staff moved away and Langlíf moved towards the entrance of his assigned chambers.

"You will wait her until you're summoned," she didn't bother to look at him when she said the last word. "Liesmith."

Liesmith. Of course, he had been telling the truth for once. Loki finally reached his destination and ignored the two guards at both sides of the entrance covered by the thick and dark curtain. He knocked on the wall next to the entrance and waited for an answer. From the other side, he heard a female voice giving him permission to enter.

Darcy was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed and her hair still tangled. She was dressed in a loose shirt and trouser, calmly observing a map. A part of the contents from her tent were here; mostly, the pelts, blankets and her personal objects. There was a heat spell in the room. It wasn't strong enough to melt the ice that held together the stones of the castle or hurt a Jotun, but it helped her to keep the cold away when she took her pelts off. Loki guessed that having to wear those things all the time wasn't really comfortable.

As many times since all this had started, Loki wondered why the girl had decided to walk this path and how she planned to keep control over Jotunheim once the war was over. Not everyone would easily accept a woman as their new King, much less a Midgardian.

Kings had taken lovers and concubines from that realm in the past, his black hair was proof of that, but a Midgardian King was unheard of. And now he planned to take a wife from there. He'd to laugh. Next time, there would be a King from that forgotten realm.

What would the All-Father do if that happened? If Laufey lost the war? Loki was sure that Heimdall, the guardian of the Bifrost, had seen the civil war that was taking place in this realm, but the Asgardian King hadn't intervened.

So much for his oath to keep peace in the Nine Realms. It would be interesting to see what the old king would do when Laufey fell and Jotunheim proclaimed a new King. Laufey wouldn't last long now. Would the old truce between Jotunheim and Asgard hold?

"Are you going to say something, or are you simply going to stare at me?" asked the girl from the bed without looking up at him.

"It's not a bad view," he commented with a smirk. She frowned at him and her eyes narrowed. The temperature in the room rose slightly and he raised his hands in defense. "Now, there's no need to get angry."

"Then stop provoking me," she said. He sat next to her. "And sitting next to me."

"You can't do anything about it," he told her. "You can't send me away, after all. Who knows what kind of trouble I will cause once I return to my father's lines?"

"I can always kill you."

"I'm more useful alive."

"Or send you to the dungeons."

"Sorcerer, little Midgardian. I will escape easily," he leaned towards her as he said this. As always when the person wasn't Langlíf or Agmundr, she moved away.

"What do you want, little Jotun."

Loki ignored the provocation.

"Entertain me," he said instead.

"I'm sure you can entertain yourself," she retorted before returning to her map. Loki took it away. "Childish."

He ignored her again and produced from a pocket dimension a board with painted squares that he had found once on Midgard.

"Chess?" she asked when she saw the board.

"Excuse me?"

"That game. It's called chess."

"That's the name? I'd forgotten it," he set the board between them and produced the two sets of pieces that accompanied it. "However, I think I remember the rules."

"This one is from Earth?"

"Yes," he answered while the tried to remember the correct place of the pieces.

"When were you on Earth? The Jotun haven't been able to travel to other worlds since Odin took the Casket from them, right?" There was a strange glint on her eyes as she said this.

Did she suspect how she had come to be in this realm? Did the old witch know about the branches? It was old knowledge even for her. It had taken him falling into Svartalfheim by accident to learn about them.

He stopped placing the pieces on the board and looked at her.

"I never said that I had been on Earth," he lied to Darcy. "What you had been told is true. No one can leave Jotunheim."

The glint died and he could see the loss of hope for a moment, before the usual coldness returned.

"How much do you remember of the rules?" she asked and took a white pawn and a black one.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

A/N: Actual mention of rape in this chapter.

Also, I received a review from psycobookcollector that just said "_Type your review for this chapter here..._".

I've noticed that this had happened in other fics. Does anyone know what's going on?

x-x

When she saw the chess board, all her old thoughts about returning to Earth had returned to her. For a brief moment, she had the hope that she would finally be able to return home. She may consider Langlíf and Agmundr her friends –or, at least, the closest thing she had for a friend here–, but she wished for her parents and to worry once more about the upcoming finals.

Darcy didn't know if Loki had been truthful to her or if he had lied and he was actually capable of traveling to her world. The fact was that she knew that there was a way out; she knew that that way was how she had ended here. However, Langlíf was only able to tell her that the knowledge about the old paths between the realms had been long forgotten.

Those paths… Darcy didn't even know what she would do if she found them. Would she use them to return to Earth? Or would she stay here and became the new Queen of this world? She had started this war because she had become tired of others looking at her as if she was nothing. But if she could go back, if she no longer needed the throne…

In any case, she couldn't forget that those paths were (supposedly) lost. Even if Loki knew where they were, Darcy doubted that he would tell her; she and her army were too useful for him at this moment.

"Checkmate," she said, moving her queen piece towards Loki's king. He made a face, showing a bit of teeth. Clearly, he didn't like losing.

"Another one," he demanded.

"Of course. Do you want to learn the rules this time?"

"I know the rules," he said in an annoyed tone. Darcy laughed and started to replace her pieces in the board.

"You mean that you _knew_ the rules," she commented.

"It was a long time ago," he told her. "As much as I hate admitting it, I don't have a perfect memory."

"You claimed to 'remember enough'," she said with a grin. "It's not my fault that you didn't remember that bit about queening. Or that the knights could-"

"Will you let it go?" he snapped.

"Of course not," she set down the last piece and turned the board around. This time, she would play with the black ones. "Best of three?"

He just glared at her.

x-x

Generally, Darcy took her baths in a tub in the middle of her tent or bedroom. Sometimes when she was with the army she could find caves where warm water ran and that were just the right temperature for her. She loved these springs, as she didn't have to use magic to keep the water warm.

Darcy lifted the chess piece in her hand and frowned. Since Loki had left, Darcy hadn't been able to stop thinking about the chess game. The Jotun had attacked the Norse, and that had been around ten centuries ago or something like that, right?

She looked again at the king in her hand. This piece wasn't that old, now that she looked at it calmly. Darcy may have never bothered with learning the history of chess, a cousin had taught her everything she knew about the game, but she knew that any chess set older than ten centuries wouldn't look like this.

If she remembered correctly, her cousin had said that this king was from the Staunton chess set. And that set was from the nineteenth century.

Liesmith was an apt name for Loki.

Darcy rested her head against the border of the tub and closed her eyes. She really doubted that he would tell her how to reach Earth. With a snarl, Darcy threw the piece to the other side of the room, and found a bit of satisfaction in the sound of the piece breaking against it.

Knowing was worse. Darcy didn't like knowing that returning home was this close. It was ridiculous close, just a few rooms away, and he wouldn't give her the answer she sought until he got his throne.

"Child?" she heard Langlíf's voice from outside her bedroom. Darcy told her to enter. "You should start to get ready for the council."

The old woman noticed the broken pieces that were once the king piece and looked at her.

"Now, why would you be crying?" she asked.

"I'm not crying."

"You're about to."

"We're different races," she said, covering her face with her hands. "You can't be sure if I'm crying. Maybe I'm just laughing."

Langlíf made a sound of disapproval. "I know very well how you look like when you're crying. I was there when you arrived. I was there when-"

"When I was raped? Can we just forget about that, please?" she reached for her towel and stepped outside the water. Taking in count that Jotun where taller than her, she had to be careful of not tripping with her towel. "And if you make a comment about how I shouldn't have been outside on my own…"

"I won't," said the Jotun. "And you killed the ones that did. Are you going to stop avoiding answering my question now?"

Darcy tightened her hold on the towel before walking to the wall and picking up the broken chess piece.

"This piece is from a fairly recent set," she explained. "The game is around fifteen centuries old, and the pieces have changed over time."

"And how old is this set?"

"Around two of our centuries. Or something like that," Darcy turned to look at Langlíf. "Loki claims that he doesn't know how to reach Midgard without the Casket."

"He's a known liar."

"And apparently never bothered on learning much about chess," she left the piece over the bed. "He's useful, though. He wants the throne, and he wants to use me to get it."

"And will he become king?" Langlíf asked. "Or will you kill the only person that can send you back?"

Darcy let out a small laugh.

"You don't approve of him as the King, you don't approve of my actions…" she trailed.

"I could care less about who the King is," said the witch. "Most options would be better than Laufey."

"Loki is the lesser evil, then?"

"If it means that you return to your realm, yes. You can't live here forever; this world wasn't made for your race," she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "If there's a way, you should take it. It will be best option for you."

"You don't want me as your ruler? I'm hurt," said Darcy with a bit of amusement in her voice. In any case, shouldn't she take responsibility for this war?

"I never approved of any of this," Langlíf answered. "I promised to keep you safe, and that's what I'll do."

"Thank you," Darcy gave her a small smile. "But until I return home, I refuse to be seen again as anyone's slave."

"You were never my slave."

"You should have told that to the rest of Jotunheim, then," Darcy looked at Langlíf. "You should be going, I'll be there soon."


End file.
